


Walk Forward Stone Child

by LeafAdrift (Sillyleaf)



Series: Tales of Mavis Cadash [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: After the battle, Gen, Haven (Dragon Age), Momquisitor, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 10:00:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19461661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sillyleaf/pseuds/LeafAdrift
Summary: Haven has fallen. She is alone as she bears the injuries of her encounter with Corypheus. Cold and exhaustion seep in. Mavis speaks of the stone.





	Walk Forward Stone Child

**Author's Note:**

> A small piece looking in on the Inquisitor as she seeks something in the storm.

“I am the stone. Heavy and ancient. “ She’d stopped shivering. That was probably a bad sign. The snow whipping around her as she marched through the darkness. Stiff legs sinking into deep drifts. The gales stunting her advance but she had to keep going forward. Teetering left and right, unable to stay on a straight path. 

“Shape me, build me, forge me.” Mavis stumbled, crying out in agony as her broken arm made impact with the snow. She rolled over, staring upwards, large puffs of mist dissipating from her blue-tinged lips. Haven was buried. So many had been lost. Had Cullen and Leliana led everyone to safety? Where would they go? What was left? How would they defeat Corypheus? It was all on her. She held some mistake in her palm that could fix the broken veil. There was no fate or gods at work. Yet, she was needed. 

“Light the coals. Feed the flames. Fill my lungs.” She struggled to her feet, inhaled deeply the stinging flurry that crashed against her. Mavis placed one foot forward then the other. Stumbling towards the shadows that played against the horizon. Be they real or figments she hadn’t the energy to distinguish. There was just the need to keep going. 

“Molten and malleable, I am raw and ready.” How long had she been wandering? Lost and alone. Sparks of green illuminated the path as she stumbled upon a cold fire pit. They had been here. Someone had made it. She just had to keep going. Things were foggy, who needed her? Wayward children. Problems with no sense. Old fools trying to make a change? There was somewhere. She had to be going towards something. Deril was waiting at home. The fireplace lit. Fenor and Renan would be asleep but she’d sneak into the loft, wake them both with a kiss, warm herself by the fire with Deril braiding her hair, and the children crawling all over her. Mavis saw herself nodding off, Deril bringing blankets and pillows and the whole family would pile on the floor around her. If she fell asleep she could wake up to Deril and the children. Mavis felt her eyes grow heavy, squinting against the flurries and wind. Suddenly dizzy she lurched from side to side her heart slammed fitfully against her chest. Startled and awakened momentarily but plummeting down again. Darkness was on the edges closing in. 

“Strike the hammer. Fold the steel. Cleanse me of weakness.” Mavis’ eyes had frozen shut. She could no longer lift her feet up and instead dragged herself through the snow, head hunched. The storm was settling, or she had lost all sense and feeling. Maybe this was all a dream? She’d never had one before but magic was strange. Dreams are for sleeping. Was she sleeping? If this was a dream and she was asleep then there was no need to keep moving. She could lie down, give in. Where was she headed? Was it important? 

“You are almost there. The sword forged from impure ore. You don’t want to shatter. You want to be sharp.” Strange words echoed in her head. Had she heard the voice before? She had to go, just a little further. Almost through the tempering, almost forged. She could be quenched and sharpened.

She had to live. She wanted to live but try as she might, her body would not heed her will. 

“Help!” Mavis screamed, the word a roar, rage and fire and desperate to not be left alone. All she had left, placed in a final strike. Hissing metal against the cold water. She did not see salvation come over the ridge, instead, she fell. The darkness of a dream free dwarven slumber. Her wish following in a fading echo on conscious thought.

...A safe place. A warm fire. Her friends. Her family.


End file.
